


Coup Critique

by Yilena



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fantasy, Meet-Cute, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 19:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yilena/pseuds/Yilena
Summary: During the summer, Marinette volunteers to help a stranger find his pokémon. They venture into the forest together to search, but all she could see was his smile and her own pokémon stretching out her claws in disapproval. AU.





	Coup Critique

**Author's Note:**

  * For [powerdragonmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerdragonmoon/gifts).



> Mamamoon!! My dear mother, happy birthday!! I hope this is okay, I tried to keep it short for you—meaning it's now my shortest story, wowie. Thanks to the discord belugas for helping me decide on things (especially Lynn), and my lovely cabbage for betaing this. I had more pokémon planned originally, but short and sweet seems better.

_Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc_

There wasn't a lot to do at her home.

Marinette had grown up in one of the smallest cities, the second main attraction of her forest-lined home being the zoo along with the safari zone that had opened when she was a young girl. Her parents' pâtisserie had steadily grown in popularity over the years, slowly becoming known and featured on magazines for their different treats that were shaped cutely and sold in matching pairs for an individual and their pokémon.

The tourists that stayed for more than a few days—more than challenging the gym, staying in one of the two possible inns and waiting for a rematch when they'd failed the previous time—were always treated well.

When she was little, she'd found it hard to understand why no one stayed for long. Their city had one of the highest populations on the island, but it didn't feel that way, not when travellers passed through when the weather was nice, leaving it quiet and empty-looking when the seasons were harsh. A lot of the homes were cottages, the public facilities not as high-tech as the other cities, but it was what she considered home.

Still, when she left Fuchsia to travel to the other cities for deliveries, she was always astounded by the difference. Although technology for their world was advanced, enough to store pokémon in a stasis of bliss when they were placed away in their pokéballs, happily sleeping without being aware of the passing time until they were taken out and needed. And the fact that pokémon could be transferred from the balls into computers, to rest in a place within the technology where no could could physically touch them, was astounding.

And yet, their means of transport hadn't really evolved for years. Sure, electric-type pokémon helped to run the trains between cities, and the ferries ran regularly if a city was by the sea, but travelling short distance was a nuisance when it included walking through an wooded area with countless pokémon that were itching for attention and had no qualms about playing, or even attacking, her out of nowhere.

The days of her cycling without pokémon out had ended when Haunter had come along, far too stubborn to be kept away.

“Stop it,” Marinette scolded, her blue-coloured eyes narrowing towards where one of her shoes was poking out of the closet, clearly being dragged inside. “I won't take you along if you're just going to be annoying.”

With the three pokéballs attached to her belt, only two were in use.

As though she was sulking, a blur phased through the closet door, materialising in secrets to appear to be a large purple-coloured being with a gaseous body with disembodied hands. It had been a scary sight when she was younger, featured in all sorts of horror stories and television shows, but not even the pointed teeth could instil fear in her any longer.

“Haunter,” she chastised, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you keep this up, we're going to be late.”

Haunter—for she wouldn't respond to a nickname, and only listened when Marinette called her the name of her species, something Marinette would hate if anyone called her human—chose to ignore her, continuing to levitate and avert her eyes.

The pure attitude that was coming from her was saying a lot considering she couldn't talk.

With a sigh, Marinette tucked some of her dark-coloured hair behind her ear before picking up her shoes, trying to ignore the sulking pokémon beside her. Haunter was technically taller than her, but when she was only capable of floating, Haunter's head partially going through the ceiling as she walked along was certainly a sight to see.

The kitchen was hot when she walked through it, saying her good-bye to her parents and the accompanying pokémon that were helping them cook. It was a system that they'd perfected over the years—it had taken a few mishaps with too many flames being involved and the fire almost escaping the kitchen before backup came to help—and one that she was slowly working her way into.

Instead of travelling the world in search of new pokémon, challenging gyms and trainers for a non-set amount of money, trying to earn enough for food each day when they were just starting out, Marinette had opted to stay in her city, watching her friends leave on their adventures instead.

She wasn't sad about it.

While she enjoyed travelling to deliver the orders, she much preferred staying at home—at least, until the new homes that were being built were finished, and she could buy an apartment—and sticking to the same scenery that she'd grown up with. Marinette didn't want to fight, to deal with the strong and driven trainers that walked around, chasing their dreams while training up their pokémon to be the strongest that they could be.

She liked taking it slow.

Haunter, on the other hand, was full of mischief. The amount of times her family had been woken up at night because a neighbour was knocking on their door, asking for help because her pokémon had wandered in their home and wouldn't _leave_ , was a little depressing.

Rather than taking her parents up on their offer to borrow one of their flying pokémon, she happily said that she'd rather cycle than deal with the sharp air touching her skin due to the speed of flying. As time-saving as it was, it wasn't a pleasant experience.

The basket in the front was either for her smaller pokémon— _not_ Haunter, who continued to sulk whenever she batted her away from it—or the deliveries that she had to take to Celadon City. The goods she was delivering were wrapped up nicely and deposited into the basket, straps over the top for extra safety, and it was with a smile that she waved to the few pokémon that were visible through the front windows of their store.

The small city meant that she knew the residents. They said good-bye to her on the way past, the ones that hadn't been too terrorised by Haunter extending the words to her, too, and Marinette paused to make conversation if she was fond of any of them. There was favouritism, of course, which was only natural when gossip ran wild through their city.

She could vividly remember them saying that Haunter would cause her death within weeks of her finding her in the beginning.

As she cycled, Haunter stubbornly stayed floating beside her head, keeping up with the speed of which she was riding at. Although haunters were able to phase and float through their surroundings, living beings, such as humans and other pokémon, were a different story.

The routes she had to take weren't too difficult. The road was surrounded by forest, tall grass where pokémon could lurk and try to approach her if she went too near, but she'd learned the easiest way to make her way through and avoid any unnecessary fights.

She stopped when she could, pausing to take a drink from the bottle that she'd wisely packed into her backpack. After taking the journey more than a few times since she'd been deemed old enough to travel alone, she'd made the mistake of forgetting a drink once or twice, causing her to suffer greatly, even with the stops that she made.

The path that was created for cyclists was a large help. Bicycles and motorbikes were both permitted on it, meaning it could be loud sometimes, but the distance that it covered would've been stressful to cross without the path. Marinette waved at a few that recognised her on the way past, the ones that had stopped to chat with each other, and enjoyed the feeling of the wind against her cheeks, the way her hair was moving, surely some strands escaping the braids she'd put it into.

It was the excitement of going to Celadon that kept her going despite the burn in her thighs from cycling. The weather was hot from the summer as it was, but when it was combined with her skin sticking to the seat, it wasn't very comfortable.

While Marinette's city was known for their zoo and safari zone—a safe place to view and catch pokémon in a natural habitat that they wouldn't be able to see otherwise—Celadon had the largest department store on their island. Sometimes, she saved up months before her next visit, choosing to only visit when she had a delivery to make, rather than complete the journey for purely selfish reasons.

There was also a large arcade that her parents used to take her to when she was younger. It was always bustling with either trainers, trying to trade their tokens in for something worth it, or children that simply wanted to have some fun (of course, there were always adults that dabbled in it a bit too much, but they were advised against it).

On the last route, the forest and grass beside the path were a usual sight, but seeing someone frantically wave their hands in the air as they seemed to shout something definitely wasn't a normal occurrence.

Her breaks creaked as she came to a stop.

They didn't notice her, though.

It was a male from the look of it; tall, blond hair, with a few visible pokéballs on his belt, but he was still too busy waving his hands above his head, clearly trying to make his presence known.

Rather than set her bicycle down and risk the package in the front being jostled if it fell over, Marinette put one foot on the grown, another on the pedal as she cleared her throat.

It still didn't get his attention.

Haunter hovered beside her head, stretching the claws of her disembodied hands as a way to entertain herself, definitely disapproving of the situation.

“Hey,” she called, louder than before. “Do you need help?”

That caused him to turn to look at her, clearly startled from the way he jolted, his arms coming down to rest at his sides immediately. “I— _hi_ ,” he greeted her, far too loud with his voice cracking. “I—no, no. I'm fine.”

Haunter let out a sound that Marinette had learned to recognise as a scoff at that.

“Are you sure?” she questioned, lifting one hand up to gently shove her pokémon, but Haunter bobbed out of the way, floating to the other side of her head. “You look like you're kind of panicking.”

It was an understatement, really. His jeans— _jeans_ , in the hot weather—had mud and grass stains on the knees, his t-shirt was sticking to him from perspiration, and his hair that was swept across his forehead was damp-looking, even from where she was standing.

Marinette probably didn't look much better from cycling for almost two hours, only taking a few breaks between.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “I—yeah,” he admitted, voice so quiet that she almost missed it. “I've... I've kind of lost my pokémon?”

That wasn't something she heard every day. “I'm sorry, what?”

With a grimace, he elaborated, “I looked away for one minute, okay? And he slithered off somewhere into those damn tress, and—and I can't see him.”

The word choice was easy to pick up on.

After years of travelling, of knowing what some people were like, Marinette had to ask, “And this is actually your pokémon, right?”

“Yes,” he answered, sounding affronted. “Why would I lie about that?”

She held her hands up in a sign of silent apology. “It's always good to check. I can't tell you amount of times I've found people crying because a pokémon ran off before they could capture it—they can get a bit territorial sometimes, despite not being their companion.”

When Marinette gently placed her bicycle beside a tree, propping it up the best that she could, Haunter huffed beside her, clearly not happy. Marinette paid no attention to her, however, deciding to try and be helpful instead.

“Do you want some help?” she asked, brushing her hands onto her skirt for a moment. “I've got some time to spare, and you look close to crying, honestly.”

He let out an audible breath. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, coming to stand beside him. “How long has he been missing?”

“Half an hour, maybe?” And when he spoke, his fingertips brushed over one of the pokéballs on his belt before falling down to his side. “I let him out for a bit while I caught my breath. I just—I know it wasn't smart, okay? But he gets grumpy when he's in his ball for so long, and I _really_ can't put up with him ignoring me today, so I let him out—”

The way he was talking fast, stumbling over some pronunciation, showed that he cared about what he was saying. Marinette could sympathise with him; when she'd first gotten Haunter, back when the mischievous being liked to hide in the dark and throw objects around her bedroom instead of regularly playing with her neighbours, Marinette had been distraught whenever her pokémon disappeared for a while.

Gesturing to Haunter beside her—who was looking anywhere but at the two of them, seeming to be aloof and staring into the trees instead—Marinette quipped, “Well, we're here to help. Anything helpful that you can tell us would be really good.”

“Really?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You—you'd really help me?”

She offered him a small smile. “It is why I stopped.”

“Oh, thank you,” he started, taking a step towards her. “I honestly thought you just wanted to battle. I was about to have a panic attack.”

It was such a common occurrence. “No, that's not for me,” Marinette replied, honest, before pointing towards the being beside her again. “This one's far too stubborn to listen all the time. It would end in disaster.”

“I—yeah,” he stuttered. “I'm Adrien, by the way.”

“Marinette,” she stated. “What pokémon are we looking for?”

“He's—” Adrien cut himself off, frowning. “I think he's—he's a dragonair? Don't hold me to that, though. I could be wrong—it's very likely that I'm wrong, actually.”

The name of the pokémon caused her eyes to widen. Dragonair weren't seen often, and when they were, they really weren't hard to miss. The dragon-type was blue-and-white-coloured with a large body that was almost three times her size in height if it were to stretch out, rather than slither along with over half of the body behind it.

“A dragonair?” she repeated, awed. “Really?”

He didn't look in her eyes. “Yeah.”

With a look to the large forest that surrounded them on both sides, Marinette enquired, “Are you sure he went this way?”

“I think so,” Adrien said, gesturing towards the markings on the floor. “That has to be him—unless it's some other large pokémon? I'm not really sure which ones are native to here.”

She hummed. “Nothing that can leave marks like this. I'm pretty sure this is your buddy.”

“You—you just know that off the top of your head?” The way he stuttered when he spoke clearly showed that he was nervous, though she couldn't hold that against him—if any of her other pokémon wandered off, she would've been the same.

A bit bashful, she tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. “I come through here often for deliveries. It's only smart to look up the route beforehand, right?”

From the way he grimaced, she assumed that he hadn't.

“Does he have a name?” Marinette quickly asked, changing the subject as they wandered through the first bushes, following the markings on the floor. “Your dragonair, I mean. Haunter absolutely _refuses_ to respond to any other name.”

With a look over her shoulder, she confirmed that her haunter was stubbornly floating a metre or so behind her, claws curled in and making her appear hostile. And when her wide eyes with those tiny pupils to meet her gaze, Marinette stuck her tongue out at her.

The noise she received was some she classed as positive.

“Plagg,” Adrien admitted, swatting some branches out of his way. “His name's Plagg. I've... I looked all through here, but I was worried about getting lost, so that's why I was back on the trail.”

“Shouting,” she added on. “Back on the trail and shouting.”

He let out a weak laugh. “I must've looked ridiculous, right?”

“Only a little,” Marinette answered. “It's mostly the clothing that makes you look like that, though. Jeans in this weather? Really, Adrien?”

The laugh sounded a bit more genuine at that. “I bought these on sale in Celadon, okay?”

“A good excuse,” she remarked. “Is it your first time here? Past Celadon, I mean, since you don't know about the pokémon.”

A large serpent-like pokémon shouldn't have been so good at hiding, but she started to understand why he wandered back to the path as ground started to be decorated with footsteps of other pokémon, rather than the indication that dragonair had slithered past, leaving a trail.

“It is,” he confirmed without hesitation. And when she looked to the side, she was able to see the soft smile that appeared on his lips. “I just wanted to travel, you know? But without the whole gym thing. I'd rather just relax with my pokémon than battle with them.”

Marinette smiled widely at that. “Me, too!”

“Really?” Dimples were visible on his cheek as he turned his head towards her, his tone of voice excited. “I thought with you being out here that you might, you know—”

She raised her eyebrows. “Want to fight you, still?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “That.”

“Definitely not.” She pulled a face at that. “I never wanted to when I was younger, and I still don't. I get all the adventure I need from making deliveries.”

Following the trail that Plagg left behind wasn't difficult, but it was catching up to him that seemed to be the hard part. The expanse of forest was wide, the trees causing the sky to be almost blocked when they looked above, and yet, she couldn't see the large pokémon through the trees. It was a wonder how Adrien hadn't heard his pokémon slither off in the first place when it was such a big one—

Her thoughts were interrupted with him asking, “What do you deliver?”

“Bakery goods,” Marinette summed up. “If it's an expensive order, that's the only time I travel to other cities—well, only if the buyer doesn't want to come and get it themselves.”

With a noise of agreement, Adrien mused, “That sounds like an interesting job.”

“If you can handle training new pokémon in the kitchens,” she said, pushing aside some leaves and staring down at the marks on the floor. “It can be a hassle sometimes, but they're really worth it in the end.”

Adrien asked, “Is it a family business?”

“My parents started it, so yes,” she admitted, proud of what they'd accomplished. “What about you, Adrien? What has you out here?”

“Just travelling,” he said, keeping his voice casual. “I wanted a change of pace and travelling across the rest of Kanto was too appealing to pass up on. I admit, I'm not really the best suited for it, but it's been fun so far.”

It was then that she decided to keep the comment about him not checking up on the routes to herself. He'd already lost his pokémon and teasing remarks from her probably weren't what he wanted to hear.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Until mishaps like this happen, right?”

“I won't even lie and pretend this isn't the first time he's ran off.” Adrien sighed. “He just—he doesn't like it when he's in his ball, but it's such a hassle to have him out all the time. Most of the time he can't even be bothered to even _try_ and open doors for himself.”

The thought of a large dragonair trying to open the door with his tail almost had her laughter. “I—yeah?” she asked, choking back her amusement. “Haunter's the same, really. I gave up trying to store her the way years ago.” And with a gentle pat to the pokéballs on her belt, Marinette added on, “Thankfully, these two are a lot better.”

“Two?” he questioned, turning to look at her in interest. “You've only got three pokémon?”

It wasn't _only_. There were countless pokémon running around at her home, either doing their jobs or lounging around upstairs—sometimes taking up her bed, even though they weren't supposed to—and with the addition of Haunter never retreating into her ball, it meant that there wasn't a lot of room throughout the day.

With a look behind her, she confirmed that Haunter was still there, sulking.

“They're more than enough,” she answered, a little defensive.

And as he realised what he'd said, Adrien quickly shook his head. “I didn't mean it like that!” he insisted. “I only have four altogether. I'm not in any position to judge you.”

“Oh,” she said lamely. “I—sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

His laughter was weak. “It's okay.”

Their footsteps filled the silence for a bit, along with them calling out Plagg's name. Haunter could've helped, could've phased through trees and looked around to act as a scout, but she wasn't having any of that, no; rather, she was lagging behind, purposely avoiding eye contact and continuing to sulk.

Marinette cleared her throat. “Do you have a job, or are you just travelling for the sights?”

Adrien perked up at that. “I'm a fortune teller.”

It was an answer that she didn't hear often. “Really?” she questioned, furrowing her brow. “Don't—I'm not trying to be offensive, but the only ones I've seen have had psychic pokémon?”

“That's a terrible stereotype,” Adrien chastised, pointing a finger at her. It was only the smile on his lips that showed that he wasn't truly offended. “But I do have one. I don't get him out for my readings, though. He'd just fall asleep and probably snore.”

She snorted. “Not much for the atmosphere, then?”

“Exactly!” His smile was bright. “I don't really go with the whole spooky theme. It seems so... insincere.”

Fortune tellers had only ever been a thing that she'd seen in passing. The ones she knew of were ones located in other cities, not travelling ones that would visit her home.

“Are you travelling around doing this?” she queried, curious. “Or was this what you did before?”

Adrien pushed his hair away from his forehead again. “For the past two months. I was—I did something else before.”

It was clear that he didn't want to talk about it. Marinette caught on quickly, not pushing him for anything else, and went back to calling out Plagg's name. They'd wandered for a while at that point, deep into the forest, far enough that she couldn't see the trail through the trees.

She had enough faith in Haunter to tell her how to get back.

And after a few minutes of them searching had passed, Adrien breathed out audibly. “Thank you for trying to help me.”

“It's okay—”

He was quick to ask, “Your delivery's not going to go bad in this weather, is it?”

It most likely was. Although she'd left it in the shade, there was always a chance that it would be toppled over by a wandering pokémon, or even that someone jostle or even steal her bicycle because of her absence.

“It's okay,” she repeated, stronger. “This is more important. Besides, the customer's a friend of mine. They'll understand.”

Dubiously, he responded, “If you're sure.”

Considering she would've loved for someone to do the same for her when Haunter disappeared, Marinette assured him, “Absolutely.”

They made idle conversation as they searched, splitting of a little bit to check the shrubs, but not far enough that they'd be separated. Adrien was blunt and told her that he was terrible with directions when there was a road, so he couldn't imagine himself making it out of a forest without hours passing.

He was a little cute.

Although they were in the shade due to the trees, the temperature was still hot. He wasn't sweating as much as before, but he was still trying to push his short sleeves up, attempting to cool himself down, and she ended up taking pity on him and offering him a drink from his bag.

He'd finished his before she'd arrived.

It was clear that he wasn't a child, but she was curious enough to ask, “How old are you?”

“Me?” he questioned, as though he wasn't the only one there. “I'm—I'm twenty-one.”

“Oh.” She grinned. “I'm twenty-one next week.”

Haunter's only helpful contribution was scraping her claws against a tree to get attention.

Marinette turned around, ready to see whether she was misbehaving, only to see Haunter staring in a different direction than they were looking. With a glance to the side, it confirmed that Adrien hadn't heard Haunter's actions, too busy looking out for his lost pokémon, so Marinette reached out to touch his shoulder to get his attention.

She felt a little bad when he jumped.

“Sorry,” she offered, sincere. “I think Haunter's seen something. She wants us to go the other way.”

His eyes flickered between her and Haunter. “Are you—are you sure?”

“That we can trust her?” Marinette asked, raising her eyebrows when she'd picked up on the hidden meaning behind his words. “I know her kind has a bad reputation, but I'd trust her with my life. Besides, she could've just stayed with my bicycle and left us alone, right?”

She could see him swallow. “If you say so.”

“I _do_.” It wasn't unusual for there to be a bit of prejudice; a lot of ghost-types were known for haunting abandoned buildings or cemeteries, mourning their dead loved ones and refusing to move on, bringing havoc to anyone that dared to disturb them. But Haunter wasn't that bad. “I'm sure you get stereotyped for your pokémon all the time.”

The laugh that escaped him sounded almost choked.

And as they started towards the direction that Haunter wanted them to go, immediately picking up on another trail left from Plagg's body, Marinette had to ask, “Does anyone ever try to tell you that size doesn't matter?”

Adrien sucked in a startled breath. “What?”

“You know, because Plagg's so big?” she explained awkwardly, trying to stop herself from grimacing because the joke had fallen flat. “I—it was a dumb joke. I'm sorry.”

“I—no, no,” he quickly said, still looking a bit puzzled. “I'm sorry, I... I didn't get it at first, that's all.”

It was a terrible excuse, and judging from the way his brow was still furrowed, showing no amusement, he knew that, too.

While Marinette wasn't an expert on whether tracks were fresh or not, she trusted her pokémon—the fact that Haunter was willing to actually help, instead of continuing to sulk, meant a lot, though it was probably because she wanted to leave.

Adrien was the one to break the silence between them to clear his throat and say, “Sorry for insulting your haunter.”

It didn't escape her that he wasn't using that as a name. “Okay.”

Fumbling for a response, he ended up stuttering out, “I'm just—I don't really like ghost-types.”

“First of all, rude,” Marinette stated turning to face him with her lips curled down in a disapproving frown. “Just because they don't match your aesthetic doesn't mean—”

He quickly interrupted her with, “I'm from _Lavender_!”

That was a surprise. While her city was known for the zoo and safari zone, Lavender Town had the largest cemetery for pokémon. The town was said to be haunted with the ghosts of deceased pokémon, along with ghost-types that wandered by, and the ghost-type gym was definitely an attraction that trainers visited for on their way past.

Haunter would've loved it there.

“Lavender?” she repeated for clarification. And when he nodded, a hand reaching up to tangle with the hair at the nape of his neck, Marinette furrowed her brow. “But—you _dislike_ ghost-types when you're from there?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I just don't, okay?”

It was one of the towns that she'd never been to. Anyone that had ordered from there had come to collect their purchases themselves, and there had never been a reason for them to venture that far, not when the spots in the cemetery were so expensive to claim and hold onto.

Still, she was curious.

“Do they wander into your homes?” Marinette questioned as she stepped on a branch, the sound most likely alerting wild pokémon near them that they were coming. “Haunter likes to terrorise my neighbours. They were afraid at first, everyone was of her, for some reason, but now they just throw stuff at her to make her leave.”

He dragged the hand through his hair, messing it up further. “I guess.”

The non-committal answer told her everything that she needed to—he really didn't want to talk about his home.

“Dragonairs usually prefer water, right?” she enquired, steering the conversation away from the awkward topic.

Adrien's answer wasn't very confident. “I-I think so? I can't tell you for sure, sorry.”

There seemed to be a lot that he couldn't tell her about his pokémon. She wasn't going to judge him, though; there was a chance that he'd only just gotten Plagg, that he hadn't been able to learn anything that he could due to the short notice. She certainly hadn't been prepared for a ghost-type, not when they were rarely seen in her home.

“Well, it hasn't rained recently,” she continued on, gesturing to the dry leaves around them. “And I'm pretty sure there's no hidden lake back here. If it's not too rude, I really think he might just be trying to avoid you.”

Adrien let out a sigh. “I wouldn't be surprised if that was true.”

She patted his shoulder gently. “You poor thing.”

Rather than shy away from the touch, he turned towards her with a smile and asked, “You said your haunter's stubborn, didn't you?”

“Oh, terribly.” Marinette laughed, shooting a fond look behind her to where Haunter was lagging behind once more, refusing to help. “She only wants to do something if it's her idea—and if it isn't, she'll just pretend it is.”

He laughed along with her. “Are your other pokémon as strong-willed?”

“They do have distinctive personalities,” she admitted, brushing her fingertips across the pokéballs on her belt before dropping her hand back down to her side. “But they don't have a problem with being stored away—Haunter's just fussy.”

“She seems it,” he remarked, though there wasn't any audible distaste in his voice. “I just—I don't have very good memories with ghost-types, that's all. I try to avoid them because of that.”

She made a sympathetic nose. “That sounds like a lot of hassle.”

“Honestly, getting out of Lavender made everything so much better,” Adrien revealed, swatting a branch out of their way. The branch fell off with a loud noise, falling to the floor and seeming to echo throughout the forest. “It's... I don't know how to describe it, but I feel like I'm finally able to do what I want now that I've left.”

It sounded nice for him. And when she said as much, she added on, “Other than Plagg throwing a tantrum and wandering off, your life seems pretty good.”

His smile showed the dimples on his cheek as he replied, “I think so, too.”

There wasn't a change in atmosphere or a mystical aura that gave away Plagg's position, not like the myths said about such a rarely seen pokémon, but rather a large tail that was sticking out from behind a tree. It was the scales that were shimmering that caught her attention first, and Haunter behind her floated in front in seconds, acting as a guard as it was the first pokémon to appear since they'd come into the forest.

Haunter was good at keeping them away.

Adrien was looking in a completely different direction, though.

“Hey,” she called, wide-eyed as she couldn't tear her gaze away from the large body that she'd never seen in person before. “Adrien.”

It seemed he caught on immediately from the startled noise that escaped him. And as they walked closer, their footsteps on the leaves surely making enough sound to make their presence known, her awe continued as more of Plagg's body came into view.

There were some that considered him to be a divine pokémon, a rare creature that was able to control the weather on a whim, and so much more. And for her to witness him seemingly curled up on top of a large rock underneath a patch of sunlight where the trees had parted enough to let some beams through made her heart beat fast in excitement.

The two small white-coloured wings on top of either side of his head stood out against his body, drawing attention, and from how clean he looked, she could tell that he was well cared for.

“Plagg!”

With that call of his name, Plagg lifted up his head, large body still partially coiled around the rock, body language utterly aloof, and turned towards them. The sun was still shining on his scales, accenting the curves of his body, and as his head came into view, she was able to see the small white horn that was on his forehead.

But it wasn't that that had her attention.

Rather than the large violet-coloured eyes and a small mouth on his snout, Plagg—

Plagg had the tiniest, beadiest, and ridiculous-looking eyes that she'd ever seen.

As startled laughter escaped her, disbelief flooding through her, Adrien had rushed forward and thrown his arms around his pokémon. It looked even more ridiculous than Plagg's dumb face when it was combined with how big he was compared to Adrien—and yet, Adrien was clinging to him, pressing their cheeks together and muttering words that were too quiet for her to hear.

Haunter tittered behind her.

Plagg wasn't a dragonair at all.

Falling down onto her knees, Marinette continued to laugh, putting her hands over her face without trying to muffle the noise. Adrien absolutely deserved her laughter at that moment from how he'd led her on, not outright admitting that his pokémon was just a shape-shifter.

“I—you—” Marinette choked up, wiping an eye with her palm. “Are you _kidding_ me?”

Adrien didn't stop hugging his pokémon, but he did have a bashful smile when his green-coloured gaze flickered over to her. “Sorry?”

He had every reason to be. The majestic pokémon that they'd been searching for for thirty minutes or so wasn't that at all—well, he was at that _moment_ —no; rather, he was naturally tiny, not even one-tenth of the size of the dragonair that he was at that moment.

The beady eyes and dopey smile were the giveaway.

“Plagg—Plagg's a ditto!” she exclaimed, voice higher-pitched than usual due to her amusement. “When—were you even planning on telling me this?”

Although he wasn't a majestic pokémon with myths surrounding him, Plagg being a ditto wasn't terrible. His usual appearance would be that of a small purple-coloured blob, a foot tall that wobbled when it moved, and was capable of turning into any pokémon that it battled against; from the appearance, talents, and even the sound, dittos were capable of replicating it all.

It was just the beady eyes that had her so amused.

“I did say I wasn't sure if he was a dragonair or not,” Adrien pointed out, a small laugh escaping at the end. “I'm—you just seemed so _impressed_ —”

She noticed that the top of his ears had visibly reddened.

She felt the need to point out, “I've never seen a dragonair before!”

“Well, now you have,” he stated, removing one arm from around Plagg to gesture towards him. “Ignore the ridiculous face and he's all majestic, right?”

She almost choked on her laughter. “He's—he's beautiful.”

“I think so, too.” There was nothing but fondness in his voice. Adrien finally stopped embracing his companion, taking a step away and giving Plagg a pointed look with raised eyebrows that didn't need any words attached to it to get him to understand what was being conveyed. “Even if he is a brat.”

Plagg's beady eyes flickered between her and her pokémon, wary but not showing any weakness.

“This is Marinette,” Adrien introduced, poking the end of Plagg's snout with his finger gently. “And her haunter, Haunter. They helped me find you, you big idiot.”

Plagg blinked.

“Hi,” she offered, holding a hand up to wave awkwardly. “We've been looking for you for ages.”

Adrien pitched in with, “And we had to leave behind her delivery because of you. The food's probably—”

It was with that that Plagg visibly perked up, disentangling himself from Adrien. His massive body slithered along with a speed that she really should've expected, darting through the trees and creating a new trail as he sped off, ignoring Adrien's cry of his name.

As Adrien groaned beside her, putting his face into his hands with a frustrated noise, she was caught between laughter and trying to offer him some comfort.

“There, there,” Marinette said, patting his shoulder lightly. “At least we know where he is now, right?”

Adrien sighed, letting his hands fall back down to his side. “Yeah, probably going to eat your food.”

With a laugh, she turned towards Haunter, her smile reaching her eyes. “Any chance you'll lead us back?”

Haunter only flexed her claws primly as an answer.

“Please?” she asked, taking a step towards her. “The sooner we get out of here, we'll be able to go into Celadon and get something to eat.”

Haunter made a grumbling noise, but it sounded more like agreement than anything. Marinette grinned, caught between reaching out to hug her pokémon—knowing that she was likely to just float away to avoid the affectionate embrace—or turning back to assure Adrien that they'd get out of there fine.

To his credit, Adrien didn't ask whether the two of them could trust Haunter again.

When they started to walk back at a faster pace than when they'd been searching for Plagg, he did start laughing when Haunter phased through trees, choosing to float in a straight line rather than sidestep anything in her way. It didn't slow her down, after all, but it definitely showed her stubborn attitude.

“So,” Marinette started as they continued to walk over the fresh trail that Plagg had left behind. “It's not rude of me to ask why your ditto's a dragonair right now, right?”

He choked out a laugh. “No, no, it's fine,” Adrien assured her, reaching up to try and push up one of his sleeves again, but he failed pitifully. “He's just—he has only three forms that he can transform to from memory.”

“And one's a _dragonair_.”

“Yeah, large and impossible to ignore,” he grumbled. “Since he doesn't have an actual reference, it always ends up with him keeping the ditto face. You're not the first to be surprised.”

She snorted. “You led me on!”

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, running a hand through his hair. “I was going to tell you, but—but a pretty girl asking about my dragonair? That's like a dream come true.”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest. “I distinctly remember you saying you didn't need help.”

“I was embarrassed,” he admitted without hesitation, a lopsided smile on his lips. “Not about Plagg, I mean—well, yes, but about him running away. I'm never be ashamed of having a ditto.”

It was a nice attitude to have, even if he'd wanted to impress her.

Then, a thought hit her. “Hang on.”

He made an enquiring noise.

“Dittos...” Marinette trailed off, brow furrowing as she tried to remember a specific piece of information. “Dittos transform into rocks when they go to sleep, right?”

His smile turned sheepish. “I—yeah.”

It was just a piece of throwaway information, something that they'd been taught growing up that she hadn't paid much attention to—because why would she? She'd never imagined owning a ditto, not even when she'd found out about the advantages of having one.

Still, she had to ask, “...Is that why we couldn't find him?”

“Maybe?” It definitely sounded like a question, and from the way his smile widened, he was also aware of that. “Or he was slithering fast—you saw how fast he ran away just then. We'll never know.”

She squinted. “We could've walked past him dozens of times.”

“I don't think we did,” Adrien confessed. “He turns into a really specific rock, you know? I think I'd be able to recognise him anywhere. I definitely didn't spot him.”

With a choked laugh, Marinette said, “Rock hard, then.”

Adrien shot her a scandalised look. “ _Marinette_.”

“That was a good one!” she defended, throwing her hands up in the air from his reaction. “Oh, come on. You got it this time!”

“I'm having seconds thoughts about being alone with you.” He sniffed dramatically. “You're terribly vulgar.”

She grinned. “Haunter's like our chaperone right now.”

“Does that—” Adrien started before cutting himself off by clearing his throat. With his gaze averted, staring at Haunter in front of them who was phasing through trees still, he asked, “Does that mean she'll chaperone if you say yes to going on a date with me?”

It was a surprise, but not a bad one. It was clear that they got along well—from how they hadn't argued or squabbled at all, even when he was terribly worried about his missing pokémon—so there wasn't any reason for her to say no.

Instead of saying that, however, she enquired, “What does my fortune say about that?”

The laugh that escaped him was loud, honest, and breathy. “I can't tell you that, I'm afraid.”

“Why not?” she questioned, looking up at him curiously.

His smile reached his eyes. “I can only tell your pokémon's fortune, not yours.”

“Well, that's fine,” Marinette mused. “You can see whether Haunter's going to chaperone us, right?”

Adrien winked at her. “I'll check when we're on the trail.”

The sun was still shining on the trail when they made it out of the trees, stepping out beside where her bicycle had been perched against the tree.

Rather than the large and intimidating serpent-like pokémon that she'd seen slithering away, Plagg had changed back to his original form, a blob that was one fifth of her height with a very satisfied expression from the way he was slumped on the ground, crumbs around his mouth.

He'd gotten through the straps on her basket, opening the cardboard container and hadn't wasted any time in consuming the desserts that had been inside.

Adrien was aghast. “I'm so sorry!” he exclaimed, wide-eyed as he kneeled down beside his content pokémon. “He—I can pay for it?”

The laughter came back again. As Haunter huffed beside her, clearly displeased, her laughter increased until she was crouching down, pressing her forehead against her knees as her body shook from her amusement.

It was such a ridiculous situation. All she'd wanted to do was deliver the goods and shop in Celadon, maybe treat Haunter to some nice food inside the city, and that had all changed when she'd seen Adrien panicking on the side of the trail.

“It's fine,” she said when she'd calmed down, taking in a deep breath. “They're pokémon-friendly, so he won't get sick from it.”

He looked visibly relieved at that. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have—”

“Adrien,” she cut him off, smiling. “It's fine, really. I'll call them up and explain everything.”

Running a hand through his hair, he enquired, “Are you sure you won't get into trouble?”

“Absolutely,” Marinette assured him. Then, confidently she asked, “If you're up for it, how about going back to Celadon with me for something to drink?”

He beamed. “I'd love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://xiueryn.tumblr.com) (*・∀・*)人(*・∀・*)♥


End file.
